


Don't Wanna Go Home

by dyingpoet



Series: Sprace one shots [49]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Injury, Drunkenness, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, it's not graphic tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 14:48:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19814515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Race gets beat up and hammered and some people are worried about his MIA status





	Don't Wanna Go Home

**Author's Note:**

> yoyoyo we're BACK and our mental health is SHIT but heres some fuckin uhhhh drunk projection for yall

Race was consciously aware that he was bleeding. Aware in a sense, he more knew from the drops of blood that were dripping onto the floor of the subway; he couldn’t feel his face. That was because he’d found one of those great bars where you can walk in beat to shit and underage and they really don’t care as long as you have money. Miracle really.

He felt a bang as his head snapped back against the window once the train started moving again, and everything was spinning but he knew he was one of the only people in the car. He didn’t want to go home right now, he couldn’t talk and he couldn’t answer any questions.

“Didn’t mean to fight,” he mumbled to himself, wiping at his face and frowning when his hand came back red. “Not my fault.”

There was a buzzing in his lap and Race let out a whine. He hated his phone he didn’t want to  _ talk  _ to anybody. 

It kept buzzing though, and the feeling was a lot and he picked it up and clumsily answered the call to make it stop. “What?”

_ “Race? Race where are you?” _

The train lurched again and Race groaned as his stomach rolled. The lights were too bright in here. “Who’s this?”

_ “Spot, where are you?” _

It was Spot, that was his voice but tighter than normal. Race didn’t want to go home. “Don’t wanna go home, Spot.”

_ “Race, you have to-” _

_ “Let me talk to him.” _

_ “Race? It’s Jack he wants to talk to you.” _

Race growled a little bit, Jack always got him to do stuff he didn’t want to do. Ever since he was little and he had to share a room with Jack and Jack used to make him go to sleep when he didn’t want to. And his head hurt now and he wanted to go to sleep.

_ “Hey bud.” _

Race shut his eyes and felt the train move again. “Hi.”

_ “So how’s your night goin’?” _

Shrugging, Race drew his knees up to his chest. “Dunno.”

_ “Well what did ya get up to tonight?” _

Jack was patient, he always was and suddenly Race really, really wanted to cry. “Got into a fight, drank.”

There was a pause and Race took a deep breath. “I don’t wanna go home, Jackie.”

_ “Why not?”  _ Jack asked softly, “ _ It’s nicer here, and you can sleep without gettin’ robbed by some drug addict sleepin’ on the subway.” _

“How do you know I’m on the subway?” Race asked, looking up at the lights.

_ “Heard them sayin’ the stops.” _

That made sense, Jack usually did. “‘Kay.”

Race didn’t say anything else when Jack didn’t speak again, and he started to feel his head falling forward. He was so tired. 

_ “Race, you still there?” _

Humming into the receiver, Race nodded. “Think I broke my nose.”

_ “That doesn’t sound good, do you want to come back so I can look at it?” _

That sounded good, and Race felt himself tearing up despite himself. He didn’t want to have Jack and Spot see him like this, he didn’t want to go home he wanted to stay here.

“No.”

Jack sighed and Race started crying in earnest because he could  _ feel  _ him worrying and he didn’t want that. “I’m sorry.”

_ “Hey, hey, don’t cry bud it’s okay. If you don’t want to come home can we come there? We can stay on the train.” _

Sniffling was enough of an answer for Jack, and there was a sound at the other end of the phone like traffic. 

_ “Be there in five, okay?” _

“Okay,” Race said, not questioning how Jack knew where he was or how he was that close. He didn’t even know where he was, the train was moving under him again. “Bye.”

_ “Bye.” _

* * *

Race was being shaken awake, and without thinking he groaned and pushed the hands away. “Stoppit.”

“Hey Race, can you look at me for a second?” 

At the sound of Jack’s voice Race forced his eyes open, seeing the older boy kneeling in front of him, Spot at his shoulder. 

He focused on breathing when Jack tentatively reached out to grab his chin and tilt it, getting a good look at his face. “Still can’t take a punch, huh?”

Race would have laughed but Jack’s face was blurry and he didn’t feel good. He kept finding himself looking over at Spot. “Sorry.”

“Don’t gotta say that,” Jack said as he stood up, apparently satisfied with whatever injuries Race had. “Your nose isn’t broken, just bruised up real bad.”

“What happened?” Spot spoke up for the first time, moving to sit in the seat next to Race. Jack did the same on his other side.

Race let out a puff of air and tried to piece it together. “Yelled at this guy for going after a girl and he hit me a bunch of times, went and drank after that.”

When neither of them said anything Race looked down at his hands and started picking at the dried blood. “Sorry.”

Jack punched his arm lightly and Spot pulled Race’s hand away from the other and put it in his own lap.

“Don’t have to keep sayin’ that.”

“Do we have to go home?” Race asked quickly, turning his head to look at Jack a little too fast and he winced.

“Yeah, we do, Spot’s gonna come with us too,” he answered.

Spot was rubbing circles into the back of Race’s hand with his thumb, and Race didn’t really mind that he was coming with.

“That’s okay I guess,” he said with the beginning of a yawn. He leaned into Spot a little more and breathed in the faint scent of smoke that was always on him. “I’m tired.”

“You can sleep,” Spot said, voice rumbling into Race and starting to push him into unconsciousness. “It’s okay.”

Race nodded sleepily and felt a hand start to run through his hair as he started to drift off. It combed through the curls and the dried blood and felt soft. He wanted soft, he decided. Hopelessly, desperately wanted it. 

* * *

There was the sound of low voices and a coffee maker struggling to do its job when Race woke up. He’d trained himself not to open his eyes right away a long time ago though, and he knew if he did his head would hurt worse and he’d have to talk about last night. He listened for now.

“It’s not your fault what happened.”

“I dunno Jack, you heard him on the phone, he didn’t want to come back with me.”

“Yeah but he did. He was drunk and messed up from fighting, he was just scared. You know he loves you.”

“Oh shut up.”

Race grinned softly at that and curled deeper into the blanket someone had covered him with. Jack was right.

It was silent except for the sound of the coffee maker for a moment, broken by a breathy laugh from Spot. Race frowned as he tried to figure out what that meant when the covers were ripped off of him. 

“Morning sunshine!”

Jack’s voice hit him like a jackhammer and Race squinted at his face before whipping a pillow at him. “Leave me alone.”

“Still shit at pretending you’re asleep,” Jack shot back as he caught the pillow and threw it back at Race. “Your face gives you away every time.”

“Your face gives  _ you  _ away every time,” Race grumbled, and he turned and made eye contact with Spot, who was smiling, and Race smiled back. “What’s so funny?”

Spot leaned back in his chair and shrugged. “Turn around.”

Race did and caught a face full of older brother as Jack jumped on top of him. “Hey!”

“Get off my couch dumbass!”

“This is child abuse.”

“Your face is child abuse.”

**Author's Note:**

> did this suck??? i have no fuckin clue man
> 
> leave kudos/comments if u can!!! i desperately need them to live!!!! love yall <3 <3


End file.
